


max is a good boy

by taylor_tut



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Common Cold, Family Fluff, Gen, PROTECTIVE DAVID, Protective Max, Sick Character, Sickfic, max is a good boy, sick gwen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A birthday fic for a friend on Tumblr. The request was for Gwen sick with a sore throat and Max being a good kid. :)





	max is a good boy

Gwen beelined straight for the coffeemaker, #2 Camp Counselor held tightly in her shaking hand. The campers were awake and yelling, as usual, but she found that even her normally small tolerance for their bullshit was noticeably diminished today.

“Good morning, Gwen!” David chirped, his sunny disposition already blinding.

“Mmph,” she groaned. Her eyes were still not open all the way, and though that was somewhat normal for this time of morning, her bones felt achy in a way that definitely wasn’t typical, and it was taking her much too long to wake up fully. 

David smiled. “I brewed some coffee, so it’s ready for you in the kitchen,” he informed her.

Gwen opened her mouth to thank him, but when she spoke, all that came out was a painful croak. David gave her a slightly confused look, but didn’t push it and let her leave to fill her mug with coffee. Maybe it would soothe her throat a bit.

 

She was wrong. 

Gwen found that she was only able to swallow a few mouthfuls of coffee at all before the burning pain in her throat became too much and she had to pour the rest down the drain. 

David was trying to pry Space Kid away from Max’s grasp when she walked back into the mess hall, and the shrill shrieking of the children made her wince. 

“Gwen,” David called, “help?” 

David never liked to be the disciplinarian, but also, Gwen knew her throat was fucked. She tried to push through the pain and scratchiness, but ended up coughing painfully. 

David stopped short, Max relinquishing Space Kid when the grip on the back of his hoodie slackened. Gwen rolled her eyes as David frowned, rushing to her side with a worried look.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, hesitating before pressing a hand to her cheek. She pushed it away with a huff. 

“I’m fine,” she replied hoarsely, “just a sore throat.”

“You should go back to bed, then,” David fretted. “Make some tea, get some rest.”

Gwen shook her head. “The campers—”

“—Will be fine for one afternoon,” David cut her off, “and no talking. I want you to save your voice. If you’re feeling better tonight, you can help me with dinner, but I want you to take the afternoon off.”

While Gwen didn’t think that was totally necessary, she also knew that arguing with David was always a losing battle, so instead, she just picked her mug up again and turned to go back to the counselor’s cabin.

David wouldn’t mind if she used his electric kettle, she decided, to make some tea, so she set some water to boil and took her pyjamas into the bathroom to change. She checked her throat in the mirror—red and angry-looking, but not alarming—and brushed her teeth from the taste of the few sips of coffee that had gone stale in her mouth.

Snuggled back into her pyjamas, she opened the bathroom door to get back in bed and her stomach sank in dread. 

“Max,” she rasped, “what are you—”

“You sound like shit,” Max noted. It wasn’t concern, but it wasn’t quite enjoying her misery, either. Just a statement. So she nodded. “You left David in charge of the camp,” he continued.

Gwen shook her head. “David left  _ himself _ in charge of the camp,” she argued weakly. 

“Either way, it’s gonna end in something catching on fire. Or campfire songs. Probably both.”

Gwen frowned, unable to get the vision out of her head now. “Maybe I should—”

Max slammed the door before she could even stand up to leave, then looked at the kettle when it started to whistle.

“Get your tea,” he instructed, rolling his eyes when she just blinked in confusion. What the fuck was he pulling? Suddenly, a hot mug of peppermint tea was being thrust into her grip by two tiny hands. 

“What the hell, Max?” she asked. She hoped that question was enough, because she really didn’t have the energy or the voice to keep arguing.

“David’s alone out there,” he shrugged, “so I figure that this is gonna be the only place I can escape all that bullshit. Plus, you seem like an idiot that generally can’t handle adult responsibility, so you probably need all the help you can get.”

“I’m fine,” she argued but Max gave her a scrutinizing look before pressing a hand to her forehead. She swatted it away, but not before he had a chance to feel the heat there. 

“Have you taken anything for that?” he asked, and her avoidant silence proved his point. Max went straight for the drawer in which they kept their ibuprofen, making her wonder how many times he’d rummaged through these drawers, and tossed the small pill bottle at her head. She caught it and took two with a mouthful of tea. 

“Just go to sleep,” Max commanded, noticing that she was starting to have to fight to keep her eyes open, hopping up on the edge of the bed and swiping her phone away from her. 

“Thanks,” she said sleepily, “you little gremlin.”

Max smirked. “Bitch,” he returned as she rolled on her side to sleep. 


End file.
